


O Princess! My Princess!

by ImJustNutty



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Gerome tries his best, Lucina is too distracted by war to care about romance, a little one-sided attraction, alternate retelling of the Gerome/Lucina path, idiot royal cousins owain and inigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1901802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJustNutty/pseuds/ImJustNutty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone loves Lucina, even if they try their best not to. Gerome needs to focus on this war, if he wants to have any chance of fighting fate and surviving. Unfortunately Lucina is a lot better at focusing than he is, and he isn't sure why that ought to bother him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. O captain my captain

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story is not a spoiler, although it is a reference to the poem by Walt Whitman.

Gerome made it seem as though no one mattered at all to him. He did his very best to ensure that everyone knew it, whether it was his not-yet-mother or his father-who-wasn’t-his-father-yet, whether it was anyone from this past time before everything went to hell. He tried to distance himself from his friends, although it was mostly in vain because some of them would constantly insist on fighting with him, or trying to start conversations, or trying to drag him to go catch chicks—uh, women. (Minerva would not be pleased with him calling women ‘chicks’.) He liked to think that he had succeeded in his goals of separating himself from everyone.

Yet here he was, in Chrom’s army, roped in by Cherche, once again fighting beside people he thought he’d never see again since Naga sent them back two years ago. Minerva was still with him, so there went his plan of releasing her to be with her kind in Wyvern Valley. She didn’t seem to mind at all though, and deep inside, he was glad at their current circumstance.

He sat at his own personal campfire near his tent, a little apart from the rest of the main camp. He enjoyed watching the stars with Minerva, here where it could still be seen. In the future where Grima had filled the world with corruption and disaster, the skies were choked with perpetual smoke and shadows.

He was also avoiding any sort of unnecessary interaction with his friends. He didn’t need to be anymore distracted than he already was—

“Gerome?”

“Lucina.” He muttered, hoping he didn’t sound too gruff. Or did he want to sound gruff? He couldn’t entirely make up his mind, not for the princess he’d pledged to serve again.

“Mind if I join you?”

He had half a mind to say no, to stand up and walk away, but he couldn’t. Not to her. He never would turn her down. He would have refused Cherche’s request for him to stay, if not for the fact that after the battle at Wyvern Valley Lucina had run over to him with a wide smile, relieved that he was safe after all that time. So instead, he shook his head, and shifted aside so she could sit on the cleared ground next to the fire, at the warmest spot next to Minerva.

She sat down, setting her Falchion on the ground beside her. “I’m really glad you decided to come with us. I know you never really wanted to involve yourself in another war.”

“No, not at all.” _Yes, you fool. This isn’t what you wanted. You came back to release Minerva—_ “I’m glad you’re safe.” _Dammit Gerome._ Minerva shifted, snorting as though she understood his conflicted train of thought.

“Yes, me too. I hope we…I mean, we will win this war, and we will stop Grima this time.” Lucina tried for a smile, but it fell quickly. She averted her eyes from his face, and mumbled, “We have to.”

“You will. You’ve done everything you can.”

“We can’t give up now. We’ve lost too much. We all have,” Lucina said. Gerome opened his mouth to protest that he had in fact, given up, but he realised that he hadn’t. He wouldn’t put his efforts to a worthless cause. And now he saw that it wasn’t worthless, because he trusted Lucina.

He turned to look at her, but she was staring intently into the fire, as though trying to see hope in it. He couldn’t bear to say anything. He would utter his pessimistic drivels on fate and destined doom to everyone, but not to her. She was with him when he received news that his parents were gone when Minerva returned, battered and without her rider. He had all but broken down, and he was too despaired to be shamed at his tears before his friend. He had tried to be strong for her, because she’d lost her beloved parents as well, through alleged betrayal. But he couldn’t even manage that, and in the end it was her shoulder that he’d needed. After that he resolved never to grieve again, told everyone that his sole purpose in returning to the past was to return Minerva to her kind.

Lucina’s voice woke him from his thoughts. “Remember right before we left? You gave me one of your masks and said that you didn’t expect to ever see it again?” She turned and smiled at him. “I knew that meant we would meet again.”

“Why is that?”

“Because,” she said, pulling it off his face before he realised what she was doing, “it’s the only one that fits properly on that nose of yours.” She reached forward and gently touched the bridge of his nose, where it bulged slightly from being broken years ago. Gerome flinched, and grabbed her wrist.

She looked surprised at this, then pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry—“

“Don’t be.” He plucked the mask out of her fingers—gently this time—and was about to put it on his face, but then he saw that she frowned. “Does my wearing this upset you?”

Lucina hesitated. She was always the diplomatic one. She looked at the fire for a brief moment, before turning back to look at him. “Does it matter what I think?”

“Frankly, your opinion is one of the only ones that matter,” he said, before he could stop the words from falling out of his mouth. _Dammit, you fool._ He felt his cheeks heat up.

Fortunately she didn’t seem to understand the meaning of his words. “I wish you wouldn’t because I’d almost forgotten what you looked like.” She reached out and gently touched a recent scar on his face, next to his eye. She seemed utterly oblivious at what she was doing to him. “You’ve changed.”

“Haven’t we all.” He turned his head, so she had to retract her hand, and he put his mask on. _If—when, this is all over, I will tell her. I will allow her to unmask me for good, and if she will have me…_ “There is a time to mask ourselves, and now is that time for me.”

“You’re masking your heart,” she said, with a faint sad smile.

“Only while it is necessary,” he promised.

 

 


	2. The ship has weather'd every rack

Brady had recently decided to try out offensive magic, having borrowed some tomes from their resident tactician. Gerome watched as he hurled fireballs toward a practice dummy. Half of them missed their target, and their size was considerably smaller than those he’d seen Ricken and Miriel summon. Brady was weak, but had much room for improvement. Once he could master the offensive, he would be a deadly force against their foes, being able to heal and yet defend himself at the same time.

Which was where the problem was.

Chrom had decided that Lucina was more than able to command the children from the future, at least during certain skirmishes when it was difficult to oversee every one of his soldiers. Lucina often partnered with her cousin Owain, because together their swordplay was formidable and their teamwork was refined from years of practice since they were children. She’d partnered with Gerome for quite a while because Gerome could take her across the battlefield to where she was needed most, and they’d discovered that they too could fight alongside smoothly. Unfortunately, that was to change now. He watched as Lucina ran over to Brady, talking about strategies that Chrom and that tactician of his had for that day. Gerome tried his best to ignore the ugly feeling in his chest as she put a hand on Brady’s shoulder, and passed him his tomes and staves.

Minerva snorted as Gerome stood up from the bench. He climbed onto her back as drums began to beat, announcing that it was time to fight the next wave of Risen. “I am _not_ jealous, Minerva.” She flicked her tail, amused, before unfurling her large, dark wings, readying for takeoff. Lucina turned at the sound of the wyvern’s movements, and she smiled at him. He smiled back.

“Wow. So your face can actually do that. Smile, I mean.” Gerome turned to see Inigo looking curiously at him. Inigo grinned at him, and Gerome rolled his eyes behind his mask. He didn’t bother to respond, and with a tap of his boot against Minerva’s side they took off to the skies, leaving his battle partner for the day in a cloud of dust and sand.

 

 

Gerome sat by his own little personal fire again, watching the stars and nursing his minor injuries. Brady was the healer in charge for that day because Chrom had determined that they’d been running Lissa to her wit’s end and so Brady had volunteered to replace her for a while until she was well rested up. Gerome decided he’d rather bleed to death than see Brady.

“Hey there, Gerome. Mind if I join you?” There came that voice that annoyed him to no end.

“Yes.”

Inigo paid no mind to that and sat on the grassy patch beside the fire, which Gerome knew was uncomfortable because he only cleared enough space for himself and maybe one other, but that place was filled by Minerva’s tail.

“You should probably, you know, get that looked at,” Inigo said, pointing to the obviously large bloodied gash on Gerome’s leg. “Brady’s really good, he got my arm all fine after—“

“I’ll be fine. Leave me be.” _Better yet, leave me. Literally._

“No…all the ladies of the camp banished me, because they were tired of me.” Inigo might have gotten some sympathy from Gerome from his expression alone, if not for the reason as to why he was feeling so despondent.

“And so I have to suffer now?” muttered Gerome, irritated. He took out a fresh roll of bandages that he’d salvaged from his packs.

Inigo shrugged. “Thought you might want some company. Or do you only want my sister’s?”

“Lucina’s busy,” Gerome gritted out between teeth, partly from the pain as the bandage went over the wound. “And I appreciate my own company.” Inigo bent forward to help secure a loose end of the bandage, and Minerva snarled at him. Inigo raised an eyebrow at her, used to her screeching at him all day.

“Quiet, Minerva,” muttered Gerome, mostly because he did feel like some company, and he didn’t want to scare off the man he’d been assigned to work with for at least the next few weeks while Lucina personally trained Brady.

Inigo had the uncanny ability to start conversations on topics that especially irked him. “Speaking of Lucina, she and Brady get along surprisingly well, huh? It’s only been their, what, third battle together, and he’s improving by leaps and bounds! Father let him browse the army’s collection of tomes for higher level magic today, and I think I heard Ricken saying Brady’s probably going to be able to use Arcthunder soon….whatever that is.”

“While you’re running your mouth off, sterilise this needle for me,” Gerome muttered, passing him a needle while avoiding eye contact.

Inigo put the needle in the kettle of water over the fire, all the while still continuing. “You know, they’re saying Lucina and Brady go well together.”

“Who’s they?” asked Gerome, curiosity getting the better of him.

“People. In general. The ladies. You know how they gossip. They saw Lucina giving Brady a massage in his own tent, apparently.” Inigo sighed wistfully. “If only one of the ladies would do such a thing for me, I would be eternally grateful. Sadly, only my dear sister is kind enough to offer such service, and I’m no fan of incest.”

Gerome wanted to punch a wall. “Well, Lucina is…oddly different. She wouldn’t see a…massage as something…..not innocent.” He spat out the word ‘massage’ as though it was something filthy in his mouth.

“Perhaps so, but Brady certainly seemed flushed red like a tomato when he came out of his tent. Anyway, if you haven’t noticed, he tends to her wounds first thing when he can. Lucina’s a saint, though. She’d tell him to go treat those more grievously injured, even if she’s quite badly beaten up herself.”

 _If he listens to her, he’s a fool, and I should break his nose into his face._ “That’s Lucina indeed.”

Inigo grabbed the tongs and pulled the needle out of the kettle, waving it around for a while to let it cool. “Brady’s a nice fellow, really. Father wouldn’t mind if he proposed to Lucina.”

Gerome grabbed the needle from Inigo, threading it quickly and stabbing it almost furiously into the cut on his unbandaged leg. “What are you saying?”

Inigo looked straight into Gerome’s eyes. “I’m saying that you better make a move quick before Lucina makes her choice to accept whoever approaches her first.”

Gerome felt the urge to hit him, but instead channelled his anger to stitching up his wound. “I have no intention of pursuing romance in this time.” One stitch done.

“So you’d be alright with Lucina marrying Brady?”

Gerome glared at Inigo, even though Inigo couldn’t see it through his mask. “What does it matter to you?”

“I think you’d be a better choice, that’s all.”

Gerome continued with his work, grimacing through the pain. “Her happiness would matter more.” Two stitches. One more to go.

“Lucina’s nice enough that she would accept whoever asked her first,” said Inigo patiently. “She is fond of you, but she’s a little dense in that she hardly knows what that means.”

“What are you saying, fool? That I abandon my priorities?”

“Maybe rearrange them, at least.”

Gerome fumbled with the needle, cursing as he pricked his finger. “This is foolish talk. It is not important compared to our cause.”

“Brady intends to propose once the war is over.” Inigo stood up, and suddenly he was all smiles again. “I wish you the best of luck. I’m going back to the campfire to see if I can get Noire to feed me one of Owain’s cakes.”

“Don’t get poisoned,” Gerome muttered, but before Inigo stepped out, he added “and thank you” under his breath. Inigo turned and grinned, though.

Gerome completed the third and final stitch neatly right after he left.

 


	3. The prize we sought is won

Gerome was hardly aware of the events of the final battle, with all of them suddenly weakened by Grima’s dark spell, and then they were suddenly fully healed. He and Minerva leapt into battle, metal axe biting into undead flesh. He was dimly aware of Lucina nearby, attacking viciously with Falchion, with shouting that seemed almost desperate. Inigo danced his way through his opponents alongside Owain, as the horde of Risen surged against them. He wanted to fly ahead to see what was going on, but just as he would attempt to, a Risen would appear and he would fear for his friends’ lives.

And all of a sudden, they vanished, and the battle arena of the huge monster they stood upon succumbed to gravity and began to plunge to the ground. With that, the war was over. They had won, and the future was saved.

The next week was a blur, as the Shepherds headed back to Ylisse as quickly as possible. Chrom had to send messages to the various villages and cities of Ylisse to inform them of the war’s end, while the many injured and dead had to be tended to. Everyone around camp was busy, including Gerome who was often sent out as courier or to fetch supplies on Minerva. He had felt a great sense of relief and something akin to peace for once in his whole life, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about it until one fine evening. It was about two days before they would reach Ylisse, and they were staying in a large inn of a nearby town. Inigo suddenly stood up in the middle of the dining room and announced “Ale for everyone! We’ve won the war!”.

Suddenly mugs of ale seemed to appear on every table, fetched out by the innkeeper and his daughters. The room was suddenly filled with noise and life like Gerome couldn’t remember seeing in any time of his life, and he was surprised to realise he was singing aloud, an emptied mug in his hand and a layer of ale foam on his upper lip. For once he felt much happier, and didn’t even mind when Owain slung an arm around him and shouted in his ear. Through the next few hours he must have hugged everyone, even Lucina. Lucina’s hug, he remembered, because he had held her longer than he’d held anyone else. He also remembered hugging Cherche, and she’d kissed him on the cheek. (He also remembered hugging Noire…very quickly, because he was worried an arrowhead would suddenly be embedded in his back) At midnight he felt almost giddy, and his face was warm beneath his mask. He was about to tear it off when he suddenly remembered that he wanted a certain someone to be the one to unmask him.

Just then amidst the chaos of bad singing and shouting for more ale (that came from Sully’s table) Gerome heard the faint ringing of the bell that hung on the door of the inn. He saw the faint glimmer of a golden tiara by the window. Gerome excused himself from the table, gently disengaging Owain’s arm from around his shoulder, and pushed his way toward the door. As he put his hand on the door handle, he paused. Would Lucina object to the fact that he probably reeked of alcohol? Of cheap ale and Naga-knew-what-else? Was this really the best time for a confession?

“Heyyyyy Gerooome….” Gerome cringed as a deadweight seemed to land across his shoulders in the form of the drunk prince Inigo. “Lookin’ for Lucinaaaa?”

Gerome had sobered at the thought of Lucina being disappointed with him, and Inigo’s presence annoyed him now. “No, this would be a bad time.”

“Really?” Inigo’s head fell forward, nearly crashing straight into Gerome’s ear. Gerome twisted slightly so Inigo ended up headbutting his shoulder. Inigo didn’t even wince, pain dulled by the ale. “You seem sober enough though. ‘Sides, Brady might juuuuuust decide to try his luck today.” Inigo swung backwards, draping himself over another girl.

Gerome felt a drop in his chest, turning back to the door and barely noticing as the girl (who turned out to be Severa of all people) used her empty ale tankard to hit Inigo across the face. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. He ducked out quickly, letting the door shut on its own, and followed Lucina to where he thought he recalled seeing her walk to. She’d walked to the side of the inn, near the stables. Gerome exhaled quickly, picking his way toward the stables, until he heard voices.

“I ain’t got much to my name, Lucina. I owe all I managed in the war ta you,” Brady was saying. Gerome cursed under his breath, pressing himself to the wall of the stables. Brady and Lucina had to just be right in front.

“That’s not true, Brady. You advanced quickly in your magic abilities not because of me. It was because of your hard work.”

“I-I got whate’er confidence from ya. And…” He paused, and Gerome wanted to run right out, leap on Minerva and fly right out of the continent so he would never have to face them again. “…I want to be able to make it up to ya. Would you…wanna be my wife, Lucina?”

“W-what?”

“I-I mean it! I was thinkin’…I’d go be a violinist in Ylisse. It…it should be enough to support us, but—“

“Brady, I…I’m not worried that you can’t support us. It’s just….it’s just that it’s so soon, right after the war, and I…I need some time.”

 _Some time?_ Gerome had wanted to leave right after they reached Ylisse, once the logistics had been settled and they were allowed to go without any chance of him having to come back and face the reality that he was otherwise not needed in this world which was no longer his own. He heard Brady mutter something about how he would wait, but Gerome could not care anymore. The moment they were free he would return to Wyvern Valley, alone if need be, and enjoy the company of the majestic creatures.

 

 

After that night Gerome had refused to speak to Lucina, unable to _not_ think of that conversation when either her or Brady’s face was in his field of vision. He busied himself with helping Cherche sort her provisions (“My, I’m so happy you’ve decided to finally talk to me.” “Mmm.” “I hope I get a son as adorable as you in this world.” “Please don’t say such things, Cherche.”) and anyone else around camp. He found himself hanging out more with Owain and Inigo.

They were all staying in the palace, even though Gerome felt oddly out of place there. It was the final night before he would leave for Wyvern Valley, and he’d announced it to most of them personally, except Lucina of course. He did expect Owain or Inigo to pass the message on, though. The boys sat together in the grand dining hall, enjoying each other’s company for the last time. Gerome decided to indulge them, since the idiotic royal cousins had knocked on his door and interrupted his packing to invite him to dinner.

“So, Gerome, how did your confession to Lucina go?” asked Inigo, smirking through a wine glass. His face might have looked charming if not for the fact that he’d been slapped by one of the ladies earlier that day and his cheek was now flushed quite permanently.

“Hold it, what is this great tale of romance? Have I missed the chance to chronicle the legendary wyvern rider’s love life?” Owain demanded, excitedly.

Gerome sighed heavily, stabbing his knife into his steak. “No, there is nothing to chronicle. I…didn’t get a chance to.”

“What?” Inigo nearly toppled his wine glass. “That explains why there’s been almost no change in her behaviour. All she’s been doing is locking herself up in her room.”

“Shouldn’t she be busy with….settling matters?” Gerome didn’t really know, because he had tried his best to avoid her, but now that he thought about it she really didn’t seem to be around where most of the activity was.

“Nay, my fellow brother in arms. Our dear princess has decided to relinquish her title in this time, for she wishes not to interfere with Chrom’s life.” Owain sighed, picking as his vegetables with his fork. “I guess she’s kind of upset and lost now that she doesn’t really have anything to do,” he added, dropping out of character for a while.

“Wait, is this about Brady confessing to Lucina?” Inigo said, eyeing Gerome carefully. “It is, isn’t it!” Gerome refused to meet his stare. “You’ve given up!” Inigo all but through down his knife, crossing his arms and huffing in frustration. “The great Gerome! Brave wielder of axes, but brought down by the mere prospect of rejection!”

“Hey, don’t steal my lines,” muttered Owain. “But is this true, Gerome? In that case, I bring you good tidings!” Owain leaned forward, beckoning Gerome to face him. Gerome rolled his eyes, not that anyone could see, and did so. Owain could barely restrain a grin, and spoke in a volume much too loud for his proximity to Gerome’s ear. “She’s totally smitten with you!”

Gerome jerked back. “What are you saying?”

“It’s true,” said Inigo, shrugging. “A man like me knows when a lady’s interested in you, and I—“

“She told me!” Owain said, ignoring Inigo. “We were having a chat, like the heroes of legend do in the tales to share their burdens…”

“Owain…” Gerome said between gritted teeth.

“…and she was saying that she wished you wouldn’t be so distant to everyone! She said she missed being able to hang out with you like in the past when we were children and she wanted to get to know you better!”

“Pah! That means nothing,” muttered Gerome, trying not to let the hope blossoming in his chest drown him.

“Yes it does! Look, even if I’m wrong, you’re leaving tomorrow. If she turns you down, you leave, and you’ll never have to see her again. If she says yes, you’ve got a new wyvern princess warrior queen that will go down in history for all eternity.” Owain leaned back, with a proud smile.

“Yes, what he said!” added Inigo, unhelpfully.

Gerome stood up, pushing his chair back. “Th-then…well, what you say rings true to me, and…I must go.”

“Indeed, it is time for the unmasking of our great hero,” said Owain with a smirk.

 

 

All the courage that Gerome had seemed to have left him by the time he found himself standing in front of Lucina’s door.

Chrom had wanted to give her one of his grandest rooms, second only to Emmeryn’s old room which had been left empty since her death. But Lucina had refused, choosing to stay in one of the smaller rooms, same as the ones the rest of the children from the future stayed in. Though Gerome had told himself to keep his distance, he made sure to know where her room was. Just in case of an emergency, he told himself.

He raised a fist to knock on the door, his first knock strong, the second one much lighter for fear that the first was too fierce, and the third one hesitant but of the right strength. Lucina had not been in the dining hall, he remembered, so he hoped that she was here. He waited, but heard no movement from inside. He knocked again, more firmly, but there was nothing. He turned and leaned heavily against the door, trying to calm his heartbeat.

“Gerome?”

He scrambled unceremoniously back to his standing position. Lucina was standing in the corridor, looking at him with her wide blue eyes, in a simple blue dress.

“L-lucina! I was…wondering where you were.”

“I was in my father’s room, bidding him farewell.”

“Farewell?”

Lucina crossed her arms, her gaze settling on the garden her room faced. “Yes. I intend to leave Ylisse for good. I’ll probably travel the world, see it for myself. There wasn’t exactly much time…or really, much to see in our time, with everything being mostly on fire.” She smiled faintly at her attempt at humour, but Gerome couldn’t bring himself to smile at all.

“Leaving? But then…”

“There’s nothing here. I am not the princess of Ylisse here. All of you are leaving. Brady’s leaving to become a musician, and Inigo’s probably going along with him. They’d make a good performing pair. Owain is going to travel with Cynthia, Kjelle with Severa, Nah and Noire are going to find the manakete base…” She finally looked at Gerome. “You’re going to leave too, aren’t you?”

“I had intended to…but aren’t you going with Brady?”

“How did you know about Brady?”

“Well…there were those..um, rumours.”

“Oh. Well, I…love Brady as a dear friend, but not enough to go along with his performing. I couldn’t contribute to his presentations in any way, and I want to go much, much further than the other towns of Ylisse.”

 _Then this is all I can offer._ “Then allow me to make you a proposition.” He walked forward and reached for her hand. Her eyes widened, and he went down on one knee. “Come with me. I make for Wyvern Valley, to make myself and Minerva a more permanent home. But I will take you wherever you want to see, and I will do my best to give you the happiness that you always desired but could never have.” He was glad for his mask then, because he could have sworn that his face was redder than the skin of an apple.

There was nothing but the sound of cicadas in the garden for a time, until Lucina said, very soSftly, “Do you really mean that?”

Gerome dared to look up, slowly. “Yes. I…I have had….I have loved you ever since….since before we came here. Since many years ago, when we were younger. But I thought that I had lost…lost to fate. That fate would take everything and everyone I cared for away from me. And I was a coward, too fearful to grieve again.” He squeezed her hand, gently. “But I saw how you continued your labours, after the death of your parents…in our time.” He shook his head. “I am unworthy of the affections of a woman as great as you, but….since you are intending to travel, I could at least repay you by taking you as far as you wish.”

He had not expected, even though he knew how strong she was, that he would be yanked up to his feet in one swift motion, before Lucina threw herself into his chest and wrapped her arms about him. “Yes! I accept! I will go with you, Gerome, and not just to the furthest mountains and rivers. I’ll go wherever you go.”

Gerome put his arms cautiously about her, his heart thumping even faster. “Then…I have one request.”

“Yes?” Lucina lifted her face from his shoulder, eyes shining brighter than he’d ever remembered in the moonlight.

“Remember when you said…you didn’t like it when I wore my mask?”

Lucina didn’t need any further invitation. She reached behind his head and untied the leather thread that held it in place, letting the mask fall to her other hand. The cool wind swept across Gerome’s uncovered face, and he leaned down, hesitating slightly, before kissing her on the forehead. When he pulled back, he was surprised to see that she was frowning slightly.

“Was that not to your liking?”

“I was just…disappointed,” she said, a smile playing on her lips.

Gerome accepted her implied challenge, and his lips met hers, his hands running along her back and through her long hair, while hers went to the back of his neck and rested on his arm as she dropped the mask on the floor. He really hoped that no one heard as they crashed against her door, and most of all, he hoped with all his heart that they could stay that way with their hearts united for the rest of their lives in this peaceful era they’d fought and sacrificed to attain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some implied things which aren't canon include the fact that the mask Lucina wears in her disguise as Marth is the same one Gerome wears. Really, though, why does he have so many spare masks hanging around that he can lend one to her that looks entirely different from his usual one? So this story puts it that he gave her his favourite one, even though it's pretty much the only one that fits her.  
> Also, this story requires that ChromOlivia happens. The story of the tactician isn't really focused on, because I personally don't think Gerome would be overly concerned with whatever happens to him/her. The fate of said tactician is also not really mentioned here, and Morgan possibly does not exist either.
> 
> Despite the chapter titles referencing the poem O Captain! My Captain!, the themes are considerably different. For starters, Lucina's still alive. Frankly the title might work better if this is a Robin!centric fic where he/she dies, but that is a discussion for someone else who perhaps decides to write that fanfic.
> 
> If you spy any grammatical errors, I apologise, because I wrote this on a whim and did not really check it or get a beta, and I'll probably not edit it.


End file.
